


The Cliffs

by Renoku



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Companion Piece, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, JackRabbit - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Relationship Issues, Tumblr Prompt, Warren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renoku/pseuds/Renoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what the season, the Warren remained in eternal spring, unchanged for millennia in the natural tradition of utopia. But change did come, on a rolling tide of laughter and chaos. Prompt from wechard on Tumblr. Companion (sort-of) fic to Snow Globes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a prompt from my good friend wechard on Tumblr. The prompt was 'snuggling', and I went a little overdrive with it. I wrote it in the midsts of writing Snow Globes, and it takes place a few months afterwards, in my mind. However, I don't really count it as a sequel or a part of a series. In this fic, I imagined the Warren as the huge expanse it is, underneath the whole of Australia. And Jack gets a little castle in the cliffs, because he's a spoiled brat sometimes. Hope you enjoy!  
> ~Renoku

No matter what the season, the Warren remained in eternal spring.  The flowers bloomed, sprouting on the multicolored trees and shooting out of the ground until they towered above the pathways that twisted their ways through the caverns.  The many dirt roads remained paved, unaltered by stray winds and breezes through the earth.  And the heat; it coated the entire place like a fog, maintaining its pleasant atmosphere through its warmth.  It stayed that same coolness of the end of March, humid with just the beginnings of April’s showers, and yet slipped into the calm alleviation of the cold found only in May.  The perfect harmony of elements formed the backbone of Bunny’s paradise, unchanged for millennia in the natural tradition of utopia.

But change did come, on a rolling tide of laughter and chaos.  Ever since Jack moved in with Bunny, the joyous frost spread gently in the mornings, and lay down to sleep at night.  It disturbed the plants, startling the egglets into a prolonged hibernation, never knowing when to pop out of their petal shells.

And so, Bunny, being the most clever rabbit of the Pooka race, came up with the ingenious idea to give Jack his own section of the Warren, far away in the towering cliffs, so as not to hinder the delicate process of making Easter.  However, Jack, being the most mischievous winter sprite known to man, ignored the rules, as always.

In finality, the Warren became the sweet mixture of the very beginnings of March, flowing into April.  But showers of snow flew in on occasion, and during the early years of a blossoming relationship, they became frequent occurrences, Jack escaping into his frozen heights for shelter from the raging Australian Pooka when he took a ‘sign of affection’ too far.

On one such occasion, Jack simply disappeared.  Bunny paid it no mind for the first week, seething over the boy’s infuriating antics.  After the second week, he became mildly worried, soothing himself with the thoughts of preparing for Easter.  But then after his holiday, the third week, he became panicked; not a single snowflake to be found at any egg hunt, no blizzards falling from the sky, not even the gentle snowfall that usually gifted Burgess on Easter Sunday.  No trace of the Guardian of Fun could be found anywhere.

Pacing through his personal burrow, Bunny nearly ripped his ears out in frantic worry.  His living quarters felt empty without the sprite tearing through, laughing on the couch, or helping with the dishes.  The boy brought his own life to the place, whether it be through his playful mood, or his, admittedly harmless, pranks.  Bunny missed Jack.  He needed him.

But pride still prevented the Pooka from giving in.  Jack crossed the line, at least in Bunny’s mind, and he refused to admit defeat.  But there did come a time for forgiveness.  Forgiveness symbolized new beginnings, in its own way, so it made sense.  But even stubborn Bunny despised having to do it.

He settled, however, and began his trek to Jack’s frozen cliffs.  He made his way to them easily, knowing the hidden paths and towering trees like his own creation, which they were.  As he drew nearer, however, cold winds began to blow off of the mountainsides, pouring down into the forests below.  The aftermath of Jack’s hurt vented off in storms.  But Bunny pushed through, making his way to the foot of the highlands.  Now began the real climb.

The sharp, jagged rocks cut into his pads, breaking through the skin only barely.  He healed quickly despite the hurt, due largely to his immortality.  The frigid tempests tore at his fur, threatening to send him tumbling back down the cliffs to the hard earth below.  Bunny cursed his reasoning in giving Jack a mountain to play with.  He loved the sprite too much.

Tears lining his wind-dried eyes, the Pooka broke the peak of the first cliff, and found himself on the rocky mesa overrun with snow.  Large towers of rock created a narrow gorge, through which Bunny saw smoke rising from the only source of light.  The tall ridges blocked out the artificial sun of the Warren, in the hopes of creating a higher ground Bunny used in his ‘battle plan’.  From the cliffs, Bunny idealized the idea of fighting from above, using the altitude to his advantage in the slim chance of a raid on the underground caverns.  And so he outfitted the mountains with a respectable bomb shelter, as any crazed, paranoid Pooka would do after the downfall of the rest of his race.  With snow now piling on the flat expanse before the ridges, however, it became a barren wasteland.  As easily as Bunny spotted the light, six miles of frozen plain stood between him and his Jack.  So the epic continued.

Avalanches of snow threatened to bury the poor Pooka, and the cold soon bit through his fur.  Shivering Bunny struggled to press on, finding the blizzard more hazardous than his trips to the North Pole.  He considered opening a tunnel straight to Jack’s location, but hesitated on the off chance of startling an angered winter sprite into freezing him.  Too much risk and worry prevailed in Bunny’s mind.

The icy hail soon took its toll on him.  With faltering, weak steps, Bunny collapsed, the white of the dangerous winter wonderland fading to black.  His senses numbed, fading away as the Pooka fell into an extended hibernation.  No, the rabbit would never die, but would simply sleep until found again.

That relief came quickly, however.  In his mild subconscious, Bunny felt a pull from above his body.  He gazed out into the darkness around him, searching in the pitch-black blindness.  A light chill, the chill of fresh snow, covered him, under his legs, and behind his back.  Frosty wind grazed across his ear, and it twitched involuntarily.  He smelled more than just the cold, wet expanse he fell in; the scent of mint, of old smoke, of burnt-out fire, filled his flat nostrils.  Suddenly, hard packed earth lay beneath him, and he heard the scuffling of feet.  Loud clanging of metal rang through his head, and he curled in on himself, wincing at the loud noise.

A light voice reached his ears, cursing with barely a breath.

The scrape of matches, the sound of sparks flying; a startled yelp sounded and then the soft tap of a matchstick hitting the earth.  Another curse with that same young, sweet voice drifted through the inky blackness.  More scraping, and then the sound of a flare burned to life.  Sudden red light shot behind Bunny’s eyelids, and he awoke with a gasp.

A loud whoop escaped from a lean figure.  The black silhouette of a boy stood, outlined in blue; red flames danced through his snow-white hair, setting his face alight with a glow.  His brown pants blended nicely with the burning shades of heat, but his pale, creamy skin contrasted it like ice.  A smile plastered his face, and the fire reflected violently in his sapphire eyes.  They glinted with the same mischievous joy that filled the spirit, and he turned back to look the Pooka.

Jack’s smile fell when he met Bunny’s emerald gaze.  The Australian cringed, readying himself for the torrent of shouting and defensive words, and closed his eyes again, unable to look his lover in the eye.  But instead he heard footsteps padding off, only to return seconds later.  A large blanket fell on Bunny with a thump.  He opened his eyes in surprise, only to see Jack snuggling down next to him.

The winter sprite held a hand up, and Bunny bit back the protests he wanted so desperately to say.  Instead, Jack only wrapped the blanket around them, facing away from the fire into Bunny’s chest.  His hands fisted into Bunny’s fur and pulled him closer to the warm Pooka.  Bunny tried not to shiver when he felt their legs intertwined, and lay still, frozen by the awkwardness of his mind.

Jack spoke first, starting off with a joke, “You’re a lot heavier than you look, Cottontail.”

Bunny’s expression remained neutral, shifting away as the teen pressed against him.  “It’s the muscle,” he stated, his voice cracked and dry.  His eyes darted around the room, to the pots hanging above the small fireplace, the ice that lined the open windows and the snow that piled on the sill.  Bunny built the tower hidden high up in the mountains; he knew the stone floors and inner workings of the last-measure fortress like the back of his paw.  They were in the grand bedroom, right beneath the watchtower of the building.  Straw lined the floors, far enough away from the fire, creating a makeshift nest for the Pooka to escape to in times of attack.

“You’ve been here for three weeks?”

Jack nodded, eyes closed against Bunny’s fur.  “I couldn’t go back, not this time.”

“Why not?” Bunny asked, wrapping his arms around the small figure, finally.

Jack nuzzled deeper into Bunny’s body.  “I… I don’t know… I just… I didn’t want to give in again.”

“What?” snapped the Pooka, “Give in?”

“Every time I mess up, you always yell at me, and you refuse to listen.  You’ve just been so caught up in Easter, and…”

“So you thought running away was the best answer?”

“I didn’t run away!”  Jack pounded his fists against Bunny’s chest, frosting the fur.  A gale swept in through the window, flickering the fire briefly.  Bunny winced at the cold.  Jack took a deep breath, opening his eyes, and staring intently at the individual strands of frozen hair on Bunny’s chest.  He continued, calmly, “I didn’t run away… It’s just… Why are you so stubborn?”

Bunny stared away, looking into the fire as it came back to life.  “I’m… just not used to this kind of thing,” he settled. “I… I really have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”

Jack set his cheek against Bunny, and looked up at the ceiling.  “I don’t either.  I thought it was going to be easy…”

“I’m sorry, Snowflake, I really am.”

Jack’s eyes shot to meet Bunny’s, only to see them saddened by worry and a small hope.  Jack shook his head, “No, I shouldn’t have frozen all of the sentries to the entry tunnels.  It did go a little to far…”

“What, so you’re not going to accept my apology?” Bunny bristled, annoyed and mocking in his exhaustion.

“No, I didn’t mean that!  I just… I’m sorry too.”

Bunny’s stern façade broke, and he chuckled slightly. “Nah, mate, I know.  Where’d you come up with an idea like that, anyway?”

“I read about it somewhere.  I forget which one.”

“That’s surprising.  Do you keep your books here too?”

Jack nodded, “I keep some in the library downstairs.  But most of them are back at your place.”

“Well, shall we head back tomorrow, then?” asked the Pooka, smirking down at the boy.

He nodded again, and then yawned.  “You really are stubborn, Cottontail.”

“And how’s that?”

“Why didn’t you just make a tunnel here?”

Bunny smiled, “I was scared you’d freeze my ears off.”

Jack laughed tiredly, his eyes beginning to close with the surrounding warmth.  “I wouldn’t have done that… But you’re going to make a tunnel tomorrow.  You won’t be able to scale the cliffs to get back down to the forests.”

“Why did I ever let you live in the cliffs, of all places?”

Beginning to fall asleep, Jack murmured, “Because you love me…” He smirked, and his eyes finally slid shut, his breathing slowing.  His hands loosened on Bunny’s fur.

The Pooka smiled down at his mate.  “That I do, Jack.”

He closed his eyes as well, choosing to sleep this time.  Their breathing became matched, and they snuggled with each other, loving the other’s temperature.  The fire dwindled down, slowly dying.  It went out with a small hiss, the last embers growing cold, and the scent of burnt-out wood filling the air with its final puff of smoke.  Jack burrowed closer to Bunny in his sleep, drawing the blanket around them softly.


End file.
